Thick-legged shut-in sans enemies list is like Republican without Naked Picture of Reagan Stashed Under Mattress

Yes, that’s right. Now that I am an official hermit-in-training, I thought I’d work on my Enemies List so that I’d have at least a rough draft of it by the time my dissertation work begins when I’m a billion years old. All right, calm down and stop your trembling–there are few actual people on said list as of yet, because I don’t want the bad karma. But as far as I’m concerned, large bodies of people and inanimate objects and concepts are fair game.

First, though: my Frenemies List. Though some of you will fear that number one on my Enemies List would be "Republicans" or any specific Republicans, fear not. Republicans aren’t my enemies; they’re my "frenemies," because I am smart enough to know that Republicans are on one side of the coin and I’m on the other, and without each other we, and this flawed but great country, would not exist. So shut it. My Enemies List contains only things that have absolutely no worth in the universe except, perhaps, for their inclusion on my Enemies List, the crafting of which is helping me pass the time between now and September, when my PhD work starts.* So, with little more ado, here is a partial rough draft of the initial work on the co-dissertation to my imaginary dissertation of the future, my Enemies List.

My Enemies List
by Rebecca S.


1. Subdivisions. This applies to town homes, luxury towne homese, luxurie apartmente homes, condos, apartmos (but not condiments or condoms or homos, those are all on my Friends List, sometimes in conjunction with one another), McMansions, gated communities, Celebration FLA and pretty much any manmade cul-de-sac faux-munity where all the houses look the same and the only "street" nearby is a highway of some sort. Subdivisions are the housing equivalent of office cubicles. If subdivisions were a person, they would be those identical soccer-mom types in matching highlights and sweater sets driving around in SUVs even though the closest to "off-road" they go is the back cul-de-sac of their subdivision. Nothing depresses me more than flying into a new city and being treated to an arial view of the homogenaity and mediocrity and sterility that the American Dream has now become. Subdivisions represent everything about contemporary human civilization I loathe. If I could go back in time and convince Frank Lloyd Wright to spend his spare moments making amends with his servant-folk instead of giving birth to the subdivision/strip-mall/microcommunity, I could prevent two tragedies in history: the torching of Taliesin and the invention of suburbia as we know it.

2. Eggs. This is a recent development and due entirely to the unfortunate coincidence between me eating eggs I made myself a few weeks ago and me spending all night horking my guts out with food poisoning. Eggs, I know you as a whole should not be made to pay for one or two bad ones of you, but that’s just the way it’s going to be.

Stupidbeer 3. Stupid Designer Beer. I’m not talking about high-quality foreign or microbrew beer, like Krusowice, Starobrno, Aventinus, Chimay or Rogue Dead Guy–those are some of the finest liquid consumables in the universe. I’m talking about Michelob Ultra (you know those commercials where two absurdly fit models run up and down stairs and then a voice-over says "if this is your idea of ‘being a social climber,’ then THIS is your beer gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaargh I am sucking Satan’s balls"), other "low carb" beers, and this new beer from Budweiser that has added caffeine and ginseng. Yes, you heard me right. ADDED CAFFEINE AND GINSENG. TO BEER. Memo to Anheuser-Busch: If I want caffeine, I’ll drink a fucking espresso. If I want ginseng, I’ll drink a fucking smoothie. When I drink beer, it’s because I want to get tired, tipsy perhaps, but mostly tired, tired enough to get the barking dogs in my head to shut the hell up for a few seconds.

Chuckles_1 4. Chuckles. They’re gumdrops not shaped like gumdrops. They stick to your teeth and make your mouth tingle. They sit in your stomach and refuse to decompose for decades. Aside from the Jumbo Honey Bun, they are the bane of the vending machine’s existence.

5. Rampant, Unmitigated Corporate Sponsorship. Is everyone enjoying the TacoBell McTostito’s CocaCola Pepsi Nike Toyota CBS FOX SuperBowl Brand Adidas Football Brand Game Event? At the SevenUp GMC IBM Charles Schwab Stadium Brand Venue? Or perhaps the NextelCingularAT&T AOLTimeWarner VivendiUniversalNBC ABC/Disney Halftime Brand Boob-Flash Entertainment? Wait, what was I talking about? I forgot, because I died halfway through writing this. Please bury me in a coffin covered in Versace logos or I’ll haunt you forever.




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